


Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

by puck1919



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Fullmetal Alchemist 2003/Brotherhood Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Amestris, Automail, Chimeras, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Human Transmutation, Philosopher's Stone (Fullmetal Alchemist), The Tale of the Three Brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puck1919/pseuds/puck1919
Summary: “Don’t worry, they’re both wrong,” Harry said. “There’s an old story, about a man who flew on wings made of wax, over a vast ocean. If he flew too high, the wax would melt, and he would fall.”“Of course,” Rose said.“But if he flew too low, his wings would become heavy with water, and he would drown. So sure, he got too close to the sun, but it’s the water that killed him.”





	1. The Cursed City of Light

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I haven't shared pure fanfic on any platform in a while, so this is sort of a new start for me. I'm kinda experimenting with a concept here, so sorry if some of the dialogue sounds too ripped right from FMAB or Harry Potter, future chapters won't be so cut from the original cloth. Let me know what you all think, and if it's worth exploring further. 
> 
> Obviously, standard fic warnings apply: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not hold the rights to either intellectual property. And I have no money, so suing would be pointless.
> 
> And, of course, like, comment, subscribe and all that internet-y stuff.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! ^^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Ron, and Hermione travel to the desert city of Lior, where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and an evil plot to take over the world hides within the church walls.

_"Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one and only truth."_

* * *

 

  
The three strangers stared at the broken radio on the ground. Mother Delphini’s speech continued on the nearby loudspeaker.

The waiter looked at the stranger who had knocked it over, the one with red hair.

“Well, now you’ve done it.”

“Sorry,” the stranger said. His pale ears turned red with embarrassment.

“It’s not a problem,” one of his companions said. She had very brown skin, and an unwieldly amount of hair. She pulled out a piece of chalk and started drawing on the ground. “Harry, can you get the pieces?”

“Right,” the third said. He wore glasses and his skin was the color of the desert that surrounded Liore. He notably had a scar like lightning that crashed across his forehead, a bright red coat with a triangle eye symbol on the back, and white gloves. He started picking up the pieces of the broken radio.

“What are you kids doing?” the waiter asked.

“Fixing your radio,” the girl said. She’d drawn a circle with several triangles around and inside it. The third—Harry—put the pieces of the broken radio inside it. The girl put her hands on the ground next to the circle and a light flashed. The radio was engulfed by it and when it died down, it was fixed and Delphini’s voice came back out of it.

“Ah!” the waiter cried out. Several passersby came to see what the commotion was.

“It’s a miracle!”

“They’ve been touched by the Sun God!”

“What?” the redhead said. “No, it’s just alchemy.”

“Alchemy? Did he say alchemy? Are they with the military?” the crowd murmured. A few stepped away, giving suspicious glances, and whispering.

“It’s not dangerous,” he continued. “It’s science.”

“Who is this Mother Delphini, anyways?” Harry asked.

“She’s a prophet,” the waiter said. “Chosen by Leto, the Sun God. She can perform miracles and great feats of faith, and can even bring the dead back to life.”

The three looked at each other.

“Now that we have to see,” the girl said.

 

In the crowd at Mother Delphini’s rally that afternoon, then, there were three unexpected attendants. The redhead that had accidentally knocked the radio over was also known as the Chess-Master Alchemist and named Ron Weasley. The girl who had fixed the radio was also known as the Academic Alchemist and named Hermione Granger. The boy with the lightning scar was aptly known as the Lightning Bolt Alchemist and his name was Harry Potter. They were State Alchemists, though none of them wore a military uniform. Up on the podium, Delphini shone—her white hair almost glowed in the desert sun. She conjured a stone statue of an older man with a beard in some sort of toga. The crowd cheered, with confetti going off somewhere. Delphini clapped her hands, and the confetti turned into doves that flew off into the surrounding desert.

“This isn’t possible,” Hermione said.

“I’m not so sure,” Ron said. “She’s a magician.”

“It not magic, it’s alchemy,” Hermione said. “But how—?”

“Not real magic,” Ron said. “Stage magic. Sure, she uses alchemy as a party trick, but it’s all a distraction from the source of her power. Look at her hand.”

Hermione looked. “What is that?”

“The only way she could break the laws of alchemy,” Harry said. “A Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Lupin said there were rumors,” Ron said. “How they got back to Central—”

“Obviously, another State Alchemist saw a performance like this,” Harry said. “And thought the same thing we did.”

“How are we even going to get close to her?” Hermione asked as the crowd dispersed. Delphini went inside the church, followed by several guards.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Ron said. Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

 

In the church’s sanctuary, a girl with carefully straightened hair knelt in front of the altar and prayed. Silently, the three alchemists entered the room, looking up at a larger version of the statue that Delphini transmuted during the rally. The alchemists assumed that it was the Sun God that everyone in Liore seemed to worship. The girl at the altar stood and turned around.

“Oh, hello!” she said. “Are you here to pay your respects to Leto?”

“No,” Harry said, wandering to the front of the pews and sitting down. “Not really the religious type.”

Hermione sat on the arm of the pew behind Harry. “The culture here is unique within Amestris, though there are some superficial similarities with the nearby Ishvalan peoples.”

“That was a pretty impressive show,” Ron said, walking up to the alter. “Mother Delphini must be pretty good at alchemy to pull off all those tricks.”

“They weren’t tricks!” the girl protested. “Who are you to say such a thing?”

“Name’s Ron,” he said, shrugging. “What’s your name?”

“R-Rose,” she said, slightly confused. “They weren’t tricks, Mother Delphini performs miracles! She can even raise the dead!”

“Heard that line,” Harry said. “Hermione, what was that list again?”

“Water, 35 Liters,” Hermione started. “Carbon, 20 kilograms. Ammonia, 4 Liters. Lime, 1.5 kilograms. Phosphorus, 800 grams. Various salts, 250 grams. Saltpeter, 100 grams. And various other trace elements.”

“Wh-what is that?” Rose asked.

“The ingredients for one average adult human body,” Hermione said. “And I did the math myself, so it should be accurate. But no one has ever successfully created a human life through alchemy.”

“Leto will answer the prayers of the faithful and the righteous!” Rose protested.

“I dunno, Hermione, there might be something to this,” Ron said, looking up at the statue of Leto. He folded his hands behind his head. “After all, what business do scientists have playing God?”

“Everything follows the laws of science,” Hermione said, sitting up just a bit straighter. “We observe those laws in order to find the truth. Through alchemy, we manipulate those laws to our will.”

“So you pretend to be God?” Rose said. “What arrogance—?”

“Don’t worry, they’re both wrong,” Harry said. “There’s an old story, about a man who flew on wings made of wax, over a vast ocean. If he flew too high, the wax would melt, and he would fall.”

“Of course,” Rose said.

“But if he flew too low, his wings would become heavy with water, and he would drown. So sure, he got too close to the sun, but it’s the water that killed him.”

The hall was silent.

“Harry…” Hermione started.

“So, Rose, do you think Mother Delphini would be able to save a couple of arrogant scientists like ourselves?” Ron asked.

“Oh!” Rose said, color returning to her face. “If anyone can, it’s her!”

Harry pulled out an ornate pocket watch with a curled shield sectioned in quarters emblazoned on the cover.

“It is getting late,” he said. “Perhaps we could speak with her in the morning?”

“Of course,” Rose said. “The Church has rooms for travelers such as yourselves, I can make arrangements for you.”

 

The room they were given overlooked the church graveyard, which Harry tried to ignore. Evening had turned the sky the same color as the surrounding sand, effectively erasing the horizon. The shadows of the gravestones stretched towards the church like fingers. In the graveyard, Rose knelt in front of a grave, placing a stone at the marker.

“Of course,” Harry muttered.

“He was her fiancé,” Hermione said. “She said he died in an accident.”

“Science can’t bring back the dead,” Ron said. “And she thinks God can?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, looking down at his right hand. “There’s a lot out there. Maybe these people understand the world differently.”

“Harry, you know that’s not right,” Ron said.

Harry shrugged. “We’re only human. What could we know of Truth?”

 

Delphini wore a white robe, trimmed with gold. She sat at her desk, having finished the evening sermon. Her lieutenant, Brother Cray, bowed as he entered the room.

“Holy Mother, the travelers that Rose has lodged in the Pilgrim’s Room wish to meet with you tomorrow,” he said.

“Unfortunately, my schedule will not allow it,” Delphini said. “I’m certain Rose can tell them all they wish to understand about Letoism.”

“My lady, one of them bears the Lightning Scar,” Cray said.

Delphini paused. “Harry Potter.”

“There can be no mistake.”

“What would a State Alchemist— No, he must be here to interfere.” Delphini stood. “I will meet with him and his party. Better to end this conflict before it begins.”

 

The next morning, Rose brought the three alchemists into a large room down in the church’s basement. At the other end of the room there was a balcony with stairs. They were approached by Brother Cray.

“Hello, young travelers!” he said. “Mother Delphini is a busy woman, as I’m sure you understand, but she’s decided that she can spare a moment to speak with you.”

“We understand,” Ron said. “We won’t take too much time.”

“Good,” Cray said, drawing a pistol. “Then we’ll make this quick.”

Guards stepped forward, blocking the three from each other.

“Brother Cray, what are you doing?” Rose cried.

“These heathens are here to destroy this church and Leto’s servants,” Cray said. “They are evil! And evil must be purged!”

“Well, then,” Harry said. “We’ll make it quick.”

Hermione and Ron grabbed the guards closest to them while Harry ran at Cray. His shoulder connected with Cray’s solar plexus and Cray dropped the gun. It slid across the floor, stopping at Rose’s feet.

“What is all this commotion?” Mother Delphini stepped out onto the balcony. “Ah, the State Alchemists. Welcome to our house of worship. I apologize for the behavior of my flock, it was… misguided.”

“Mother Delphini,” Harry said. “Let’s say we believe you weren’t guiding them. Now what?”

“Have you come to learn the ways of Leto?” she asked.

“Well, there are a few things we’re curious about,” Hermione said, brushing the dust off her jacket.

“Like how you’ve been using second-rate alchemy to deceive your followers,” Ron said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Delphini said. “What you no doubt have mistaken as alchemy are miracles from the Sun God Leto.”

Red sparks flew from her hands and another statue of Leto sprung from them.

“Could mere alchemy create something from nothing like this?”

“That’s what I didn’t get at first,” Harry said.

“It’s impossible to perform transmutations that ignore the Law of Equivalent Exchange,” Hermione said.

“It isn’t alchemy!” Delphini insisted.

“But if you’d somehow managed to acquire a certain item,” Ron said. “Something that would amplify your alchemy, something that would make the impossible possible…”

“Well, that would explain everything,” Hermione said.

“What?”

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” Harry said. “Your ring, that’s it, isn’t it?”

“The ring is just a ring,” Delphini said. “I am Leto’s humble servant. He is the source of my power, and nothing else.”

“If that’s the way you want to play, then we’re just going to have to beat the truth out of you,” Ron said, walking towards the balcony.

“Well, aren’t you persistent,” Delphini said. “Rose?”

“Y-Yes, Mother?”

“That gun. Pick it up.”

Rose’s hands shook. The three alchemists froze, looking at her. She picked up the gun and held it out.

“Now, shoot the Chess-Master Alchemist.”

Her aim was unsteady, but she pointed the gun at Ron. Harry calmly stepped between them.

“You don’t want to do this,” he said.

“Mother, I can’t…” Rose said.

“I am Leto’s chosen voice,” Delphini said. “My word is the word of god. My will is the will of god. Don’t hesitate. Have you forgotten your fiancé? Have you forgotten who saved you from the depths of despair when he died? Have you forgotten my promise to you?”

“You—you said if I prayed, you could bring him back!”

She flinched and the gun went off. The bullet hit Harry’s right shoulder and he stumbled back. Delphini smiled.

“Good, Rose,” she said. “Leto is pleased. Now shoot the others.”

“Hasn’t this gone far enough?” Harry said, pulling a flattened bullet out of the hole in his jacket.

“Unfazed by bullets!” Delphini said. “Don’t you see, Rose, this is an evil creature that must be purged!”

She stepped back and pulled a switch. Behind them, they heard the sound of a gate being lifted. There was a low growl, and a creature that was half lion, half reptile walked out into the light.

“And my chimera is more than up to the task!”

“Weapons!” Ron shouted.

He pulled out a chess pawn. Hermione drew a knife. Harry ran forward and clapped his hands. A blue light surrounded him and a spear rose from the floor.

“No transmutation circle?” Delphini said. “So the State Alchemist rank isn’t just for show! But that spear won’t stand up against claws that can cut through iron!”

The chimera slashed at Harry, catching his left leg. Its claws shattered on impact.

“Guess it isn’t great with steel, though,” Harry said.

The chimera lunged at him, roaring. It bit down on Harry’s arm and he kicked it away.

“Guess it doesn’t taste good either.”

“Your limbs. Your alchemy. I see!” Delphini cried. “It’s obvious. You did it, didn’t you? The one thing every first year alchemist knows is the most taboo act of science! Rose, this is the price of his sin and guilt. This fool attempted human transmutation, trying to bring a person back from the dead. And look at how he has been punished!”

Harry pulled off his coat, revealing an automail arm and shoulder.

“This is what happens when you try to play god, Rose,” Harry said. “Is this what you want?”

“The great Lightning Bolt Alchemist, Harry Potter,” Delphini said. “Not even half a man.”

“And what are you?” Ron asked. “You’re just a fraud that can’t do anything without a Philosopher’s Stone.”

“We just want you to hand it over,” Hermione said. “Before you get hurt.”

“What, so you can use it for him?” she said. “To take back what god has taken? If you’re so eager, perhaps I should send you to meet him!”

She transmuted a cane into a large automatic gun and opened fire on the three alchemists. Dust flew up, and when it settled, a large stone wall had been transmuted in front of them.

“We don’t get along so well,” Harry said. “Even if I went, he’d probably send me right back.”

The three ran, Ron grabbing Rose by the wrist as they went out. Delphini ran down the stairs and burst into the hall, where the group had already made it halfway to the exit. A handful of people had come down to see what the commotion was about.

“Well, don’t just stand there!” Delphini said. “After them!”

The group chased the four through the church before they disappeared.

 

Ron and Hermione took Rose up to the bell tower, where Hermione was attaching some wires to the bell.

“What do you think of Delphini now?” Ron asked. “She could have killed you.”

“But that… that was—”

“She didn’t care if you were in the way,” he said.

Rose paused. “What she said, about Harry, that was true, wasn’t it?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

“He’s not evil,” Hermione said. “He’d lost someone.”

“We lost someone,” Ron said. “He was… he was killed. Because he was there. In the wrong place. Harry, he…”

“He always has to fix things,” Hermione said. “He learned his mistake the hard way. We tried to stop, and even share in it, but he stopped us.”

“People don’t come back from the dead, Rose,” Ron said. “What he made… it wasn’t even human.”

“That’s not true!” Rose said. “I mean…”

“Alchemy is founded on the Law of Equivalent Exchange,” Hermione said. “The price of what Harry did, it was massive. It took his arm and his leg. He was bleeding.

“And he was in pain,” Ron said. “We got him help as soon as we could but… I can’t imagine what it would have been like if he’d done it alone. We need to help him get his body back.”

“Is every attempt like this?” Rose asked. “You could get killed.”

“We chose our path a long time ago,” Hermione said. “We’re not leaving him.’

“But Mother Delphini said…” Rose started. “She promised. Just because Harry failed, doesn’t mean she will!”

 

Delphini ran past her office, looking for any sign of them. She caught Harry out of the corner of her eye and ran back.

“What are you doing in there?!”

Harry was sitting on her desk.

“Can we talk? Alchemist to alchemist,” he said. “I just want to know about the stone. Then we’ll go.”

She huffed, but closed the office door. “Ask.”

“The potential of a Philosopher’s Stone is limitless,” he said. “Why waste it performing fake miracles?”

“Because with each miracle, I can attract new believers to the church,” she said. “Believers who would lay down their lives for my sake. I'm slowly building an army! A legion of holy warriors, unafraid to die! In a few more years, I'll be ready to unleash this mindless horde upon the world! And I'll use the Philosopher's Stone to tear this country apart. Who knows? I might even carve you out a slice for you!”

Harry burst out laughing. “That’s it? That’s the whole plan?”

“What are you laughing about?”

He held up the power switch to the radio. It was flipped to ‘ON’. She looked down and saw the microphone at her feet. Her jaw dropped.

“How long has that been on?”

“The whole time. Everyone in the city heard.”

Her eyes narrowed and red sparks flew out of the Stone.

“You will pay for this.”

She transmuted a cannon, but Harry transmuted a blade out of his automail and sliced it in half.

“Give it up,” he said. “You’re outclassed.”

“I have no rival!”

She tried to make another weapon, but the alchemy bounced back and deformed her arm, crossing it with the weapon she was trying to make.

“No!” she yelled. “I will not be stopped!”

She was surrounded by red sparks and hit the floor. It shattered, and she and Harry dropped down into the sanctuary.

“My fist is the almighty fist of judgement!”

“One fist of god, then,” Harry said.

He ran to the altar and transmuted the wall. A giant stone fist flew out of it and knocked her against the floor. He walked over to her.

“Give me the Stone.”

She held her hand up in defense, and the Stone fell out of her ring and shattered on the floor.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” she cried. “I don’t know anything. Please, I was wrong, please don’t—.”

“It’s supposed to be perfect,” he said. “How could it break?”

“Please, I’m useless without the Stone!”

“Shut up!” he yelled. “I don’t care! All of this… and it’s a fake.”

 

Hermione and Ron met Harry outside of the church.

“A fake?” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Just like her.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, Harry,” Ron said. “This one really seemed like it was going to be it.”

“Give me the Stone!”

The three looked up. Rose stood at the edge of the stairs, aiming a gun at Harry.

“Rose…”

“It was a fake,” Harry said. “Besides, it shattered.”

“You’re lying!” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. “You kept it, didn’t you? You’re going to try and bring him back! The one you tried to—”

“Shut up!” Harry yelled. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! People don’t come back from the dead, and that Stone wasn’t going to change that!”

“She promised… a miracle…”

“It wasn’t real,” he said. “It never was.”

“That was all I had left!” she yelled. “What do I do now, I have nothing! What do I do..?”

Rose dropped to her knees, sobbing. The three started to walk away.

“You’ve got two good legs, Rose,” Harry said. “Get up and walk.”

 

Late that night, a mob surrounded the church. Delphini had barricaded herself in her office, the metal still embedded in her arm.

“Everything I worked for, ruined!” she muttered. “I’ll get him back, I’ll get it all back!”

“Well, we hardly have time for that,” a drawling voice said. A tall man with long, greasy hair stepped into the moonlight. He wore a black robe, and on his chest was a tattoo of a skull with a snake crawling out of the mouth. He was accompanied by a short, scraggly man with a similar tattoo on his tongue.

“You…” Delphini whispered.

“Can I eat him, Lust?” the shorter man asked.

“Not this one, Gluttony,” Lust said. “But I believe this is the conclusion of our business here. Just as things looked promising. I suppose we could start over, but the Dark Lord won’t be pleased. Still, we must have this ready in time for the next move.”

“What do you mean?” Delphini asked.

Lust drew a carved stick with a green stone at the center. He pointed it at Delphini and green sparks flew out. Her dead body hit the floor moments later.


	2. The Boy Who Lived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14 years before the uprisings in Lior, the Ishvalan conflict ended in a hard earned victory.

_14 years earlier…_

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number Four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were not the type of people to get into any sort of nonsense, and had anything they wanted in the world. Their neighborhood, settled just outside of Central, was one of the quietest in Amestris, and hardly anything of excitement happened there.

The neighborhood also had very little military presence. They liked this as well. The Dursleys, as well as most of the neighbors, had a low opinion of the Amestris military, and even less of an opinion of their dogs, the State Alchemists. The Dursleys didn’t think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Dursley were sisters, but Mrs. Potter and her husband were two of the premier Marauder-class State Alchemists. The Dursleys had not seen the Potters in years, and preferred to keep it that way.

It was just after evening, and the entire drive had gone to bed, including the Dursleys, when a man and a woman in the blue uniforms of the Amestris State Military stopped their car in front of Number Four and got out. The man was tall, thin, and very old, with a long white beard and half-moon glasses. The woman wore square glasses, and had her hair pulled back in a military bun.

“You still haven’t told me what this is about,” the woman said. “There have been rumors all day, that the military is pulling out of Ishval. That the riots are over. We still haven’t assessed what started them!”

“I realize that, McGonagall,” the man said. “But this takes precedence.”

“Over what was damn near a war?” she asked. “Lieutenant Shunpike says Colonel Riddle has vanished, and do you know what the rest of them are saying? About why he’s gone? About what stopped him? General, I must know the truth.”

The man said nothing.

“Captain Weasley has seen the house, Dumbledore,” McGonagall said. “The intelligence as I have it states that Colonel Riddle travelled to Risembool. He went to find the Potters. All the reports say that Lily and James Potter are dead.”

Dumbledore turned away.

“Weasley found the boy, buried in what was left of their house,” she continued. “The rumors say that Riddle tried to kill their son, Harry. But he couldn’t. That alchemical weapon—that… wand. It could not kill that little boy.”

“It makes little sense to me as well,” Dumbledore said. “We may never know.”

“After everything it could kill…” She shook her head. “But why are we here?”

“This is Lily’s next of kin,” Dumbledore said. “It’s the only family Harry has left.”

“How would we even explain what happened?” she asked. “Our best Research-class alchemists could not understand Riddle’s wand.”

“I’ve written them a letter.”

McGonagall huffed. “You think you can explain all this in a letter?”

“Hagrid’s late,”

Dumbledore said, checking his pocket watch. It was an ornate silver piece, with a scroll shield on the front.

“He’s bringing Harry here.”

“Do you think it’s wise to trust a 2nd Lieutenant with something as important as this?” she asked.

“I would trust Hagrid with my life.”

The faint sound of a distant motorcycle became less faint, and then became louder and nearer until the source of the sound pulled up behind the parked car. The man sitting on top of it was huge—taller still than Dumbledore, and his military uniform hidden under a large brown coat. In his arms was a small bundle of blankets.

“I’ve got him, sir,” Hagrid said.

Dumbledore and McGonagall looked over the bundle. Inside was a baby boy with brown skin and black hair. Across his forehead was a pink bolt of newly-formed scar tissue, with the unmistakable tracts of transmutation.

“Is that where—?”

“The tracts will fade,” Dumbledore said. “But he’ll have that scar forever.”

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and walked towards the Dursley’s house. Hagrid muffled his loud sniffs behind a well-used handkerchief. McGonagall patted his arm. Dumbledore laid Harry on the doorstep and put his letter right next to the boy. He walked back to the others. They stood in silence for a moment.

“It’s done,” Dumbledore said. “We’ve no business staying.”

“And there’s paperwork,” McGonagall said.

“I’d best get Sirius his bike back,” Hagrid said. “General Dumbledore, General McGonagall.”

Hagrid mounted the bike and drove off. McGonagall and Dumbledore left soon after, in the other direction. The wind blew bits of leaves down the street and there was no hint that anything had occurred, other than the small child still sleeping on the doorstep of Number Four. The boy sleeping on the step did not know about the family that found him in the wreckage of his old home. He did not know about the soldiers and officers that now mourned his parents’ deaths. He did not know that he would be woken in a few hours by his aunt’s scream as she went to get the morning paper. Across Amestris, there were those who sang, those who cried, and those who planned, now that the conflict was over. All over the country, people meeting in homes and pubs and offices were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: “To Harry Potter—the boy who lived!”


	3. A Passing Housewife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Evans meets a woman who is just a housewife passing through the area.

It had been almost nine years since the night that James and Lily Potter died, and to Amestris at large, their son Harry had completely vanished. The Dursleys had adopted a war orphan, Henry Evans, whose parents had died during the Ishvalan conflict, as a companion for their own son, Dudley Dursley. There were five people in the whole world that knew that Henry Evans was Harry Potter, and that was the way the Dursleys preferred it. But the house showed no sign that Harry or Henry or any boy other than Dudley lived there—the only pictures were of Dudley and his parents.

Henry was awoken by his Aunt Petunia banging on the door.

“Up! Get up! Now!”

Henry woke, and realized the book he’d been reading was still on his chest and the light was on. He quickly hid it under his bed and started getting dressed.

“Are you up yet?” Petunia demanded.

“Almost,” he said.

“I want you to look after the bacon,” she said. “And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.”

Henry sighed. Of course it was Dudley’s birthday, how could he forget? Dudley had only been excited over it for weeks now. He looked around for socks and found them under the book he’d hidden and, after shaking a spider off of one, put them on. Henry was used to spiders. There were a lot of them in the cupboard under the stairs, and the cupboard under the stairs was where he slept. Henry then walked down the hall to the kitchen, where the table was almost completely covered with presents. He saw that Dudley got the racing bike he wanted—though he wasn’t certain what Dudley would want with a racing bike. Dudley’s preferred method of exercise was beating people up. His favorite person to beat up was Henry Evans. Henry was the fast one, small and skinny for his age, and looking even smaller and skinnier wearing Dudley’s hand-me-down’s. He wore round glasses that the Dursleys hated paying for because they were so expensive, and so Henry would get punished every time Dudley broke them.

Vernon and Petunia were already in the kitchen when Henry came in, and he was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived. He was a broad sort of boy, built for strength as opposed to any standard of ideal body type. Henry put the eggs and bacon on the table, which was tricky given the limited available space. Dudley counted his presents.

“Thirty…eight,” he said.

“Three more than last year,” Vernon told him. “Don’t want you going without.”

Dudley nodded gruffly and started to open the nearest one. Vernon and Petunia then discussed the plan to take Dudley to the Central Zoo. Dudley looked more and more excited as they described some of the Xingeese and Drachmian animals that were there, as well as the unique collection of chimera. Henry didn’t mind so much that they weren’t taking him. That would leave him with his book and Mrs. Figg.

Henry had one possession in the entire world that the Dursleys didn’t know about, and that was the book he had hidden under his bed. It was sent to Mrs. Figg, his babysitter, by persons unknown and the note only said that it belonged to his parents. It was a beginner’s guide to the basics of alchemy, something that was expressly forbidden in the Dursley home. Dudley’s minor interest in it when he was seven was one of the few times Henry saw Dudley actually get punished. Mrs. Figg was the only alchemist in the entire neighborhood, and while she was rather frail and couldn’t perform alchemy the way she used to, she taught Henry as much of the theory as she knew. Henry, for his part, kept the secret well. If the Dursleys ever found out what he was doing, he’d never get to be a real alchemist.

Mrs. Figg lived down by the river, which was where Henry would practice his alchemy. That day, it was very cloudy and wet, and several people from the neighborhood came down to fortify the levees. Even Mrs. Figg came down to help. The rain pounded on the banks, the water slapped the mud.

“The levees aren’t going to hold,” Mrs. Figg said. “And I can’t get out there to fix them.”

“Perhaps I can help?”

A plump woman in a white dress asked this. She had two children in tow, a boy and a girl, and they all had shockingly red hair.

“I’m not sure there’s much to do,” Mrs. Figg said.

“Oh, you can never be sure of that,” the woman said. “Ron, dear?”

The boy, Ron, nodded. “Right.” He waded into the water and used the mud to draw a transmutation circle.

“Good! Now, Ginny—”

“Almost done, mum,” the girl said, drawing a copy of the circle in the mud in front of them.

“What is this?” Mrs. Figg asked.

“Modified Xingeese alkehestry,” the woman explained. “A bit of an advanced technique, but…”

The woman knelt down that the two transmutation circles glowed with a blue light. The levee was rebuilt and grew an extra three feet, and the flooding waters passed behind it.

“That was amazing!” Henry said.

“Why thank you dear,” the woman said.

“The boy has been learning alchemical theory,” Mrs. Figg explained. “But I’m afraid the practice is a bit beyond my abilities now. He could use a new teacher.”

“Oh, I don’t live here, I’m just passing through,” she said. “And besides, what about his parents?”

“He could stay with us for a little while, couldn’t he?” Ginny asked.

“Again, that would be up to his parents, dear.”

Henry looked away. The Dursleys would never agree to letting him leave to study alchemy. Mrs. Figg put her hands on his shoulders.

“The boy has great potential,” she said. “I insist you at least speak with them.”

The woman’s name was Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Figg and Henry took her and her children back to Number Four before the Dursley’s came home, drenched and disappointed with their outing.

“Why did it have to rain!” Dudley complained.

“We’ll go again next weekend, Duddy,” Petunia said. “It can’t rain like that twice in two…”

Petunia trailed off as she walked into the kitchen, seeing Mrs. Figg and Mrs. Weasley sitting at her table and drinking tea.

“What is this?” Petunia asked, her voice tight.

“I’ve come to ask about your son, Harry Evans,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“He’s not _our_ son,” Vernon retorted. “Some orphan whelp from the east we took in.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I was told. I initially came because I wanted to discuss with you Henry’s education.”

“He’s got enough education,” Petunia snapped.

“Then I saw the cupboard he sleeps in.”

Neither Vernon nor Petunia had a response to that.

“Dudley, run along upstairs,” Vernon said.

“But—”

“Now, boy!”

Dudley went to his room.

“Now listen here,” Vernon said. “That boy is our responsibility, and if you think—”

“What I think is that Henry has the opportunity and the talent to get a good education in practical alchemy,” she said. “And no student of mine is going to be sleeping in a hole under the stairs.”

“We will not allow that arcane science in this house!” Vernon shouted.

“The boy has a phenomenal grasp of alchemical theory already,” Mrs. Figg said. “And given the chance to practice it, could so some real good in this world. Do you even know what you have here?”

“Do you?” Petunia said. “It is for his own good.”

“No,” Mrs. Weasley said. “ _This_ is for his own good. Henry! Ron! Ginny! We’re leaving!”

Ron and Ginny raced in from the back yard, and Henry followed. They each carried bags, including Henry.

“You will not take him,” Petunia said. “You cannot.”

“I can, and I will,” Mrs. Weasley said. “What will you do to stop me?”

She and Mrs. Figg escorted the children outside, where they got into Mrs. Figg’s car. Vernon and Petunia stood, dumbfounded, for a moment, before Petunia walked over to a rarely opened drawer and started rummaging through it.

“Where is it?” she muttered.

“Petunia?”

“Ah.” She pulled out an old, yellowing letter. She walked over to the phone. “Hello? Hello? Yes, I need to speak with Lieutenant General Albus Dumbledore… Yes, the Phoenix Alchemist… Yes, it is urgent.”

“Petunia, what the devil are you doing?” Vernon asked.

“Yes, I’ll hold,” she said, putting a hand over the receiver. “We have to tell him.”

“I…” As much as Vernon wasn’t particularly mad about not having to care for Henry anymore, he couldn’t find the words to argue.

“Hello? Hello, yes, this is Petunia Dursley. I need to speak with you about the whereabouts of Harry Potter.”


	4. The Three Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old tale of three alchemists captures Henry's imagination.

Henry had never been on a train before, at least, not that he could remember. He supposed that he must have ridden one when he was very young to get from the east to Central, but he never could remember anything much before the Dursleys. The only thing he could come up with when he tried was a flash of green light. The station at Central was huge, bigger than any building Henry had ever seen. Mrs. Weasley made sure to keep all three of the children together— “Can’t have anyone get lost!”—and they quickly boarded the next train going east.

Ginny wanted to see the train leave from the front, so she and Mrs. Weasley went to another car with a better view of the station. Henry and Ron found an empty pair of benches near a window.

“Where are we going?” Henry asked, the first time he’d thought to since he left the Dursleys’.

“We live in Risembool,” Ron said. “It’s about half a day by train from East City. It’s barely a town, to be honest, but it’s home.”

Henry nodded. “And how long does it take to get there from here?”

“A little less than two days,” he said.

Henry nodded again.

“Mum’s really good,” Ron said. “She’s been teaching me and Ginny since we were little, and she taught Bill and Charlie too.”

“Who’re they?”

“My oldest brothers,” Ron said. “They’re State Alchemists now.”

Henry shrunk back. The Dursleys never had anything good to say about State Alchemists.

“It’s mostly for the resources,” Ron said. “Charlie’s Research-class, and he’s been to Xing at least three times. Bill’s Officer-class—a bureaucrat for the military bank.”

“I’d’ve loved to have brothers,” Henry said.

“Want one of mine? I’ve got five,” Ron said. “Percy’s in officers’ school, and Fred and George are training to be automail mechanics.”

“There were some other war orphans in my class, a few of them had automail. All I got from the war was a scar.”

“Really?”

Henry pushed back his bangs to show a lightning-shaped scar that crashed across his forehead.

“Wicked.”

The train lurched forward and started picking up speed. Henry looked out and watched the station pull away from the train. He was really doing this. He was going to study alchemy, and under someone who trained two State Alchemists! No matter what the Durlseys said, Henry knew the State Alchemist program was rigorous, and only the best made it through.

Once the train was clear of Central, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny came back to their car. Mrs. Weasley sat next to Ron, and Henry noticed a strange, triangle-shaped tattoo under her left collar bone. He wasn’t sure if he was at a point where he could ask about it, but he must have been staring, because Mrs. Weasley adjusted her collar.

“It’s just an old alchemical symbol,” she said.

Henry looked away. “Sorry.”

“It’s from a very old legend!” Ginny said. “Please mum, tell the story!”

“Yeah!” Ron agreed.

“I don’t know any alchemy legends…” Henry offered.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Oh, very well. There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at midnight. In time, the brothers reached a river to deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were knowledgeable in the sciences, and skilled alchemists, and so transmuted a bridge across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. And Death spoke to them.”

“Death?” Henry said. “You can speak to Death?”

“If you meet him at his gate, perhaps,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Henry wasn’t sure he understood the answer.

“Death was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims,” Mrs. Weasley continued. “For travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers on their magic, and said that each had earned a boon for having been clever enough to evade him. Ginny?”

Ginny hopped up and down in her seat.

“Do you remember what the first brother asked for?”

“Oh, yes!” she said. “The first brother liked to fight a lot, and so he got hurt a lot. He wanted something that could heal him and transmute with alchemy that wouldn’t have to follow the laws of Equivalent Exchange. Death gave him a bottle of the Elixir of Life, also known as a Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Very good!” Mrs. Weasley said. “And Ron, what about the second brother?”

“Well, the second brother wanted to pull another one over on Death,” Ron said. “He wanted to be able to bring someone back from the dead. Death gave him a scroll with instructions for human transmutation.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Henry asked.

“In terms of the government, yes,” Mrs. Weasley said. “But in terms of alchemy, it is the most taboo practice of our science.”

“What did the third brother ask for?” Henry asked.

“The third brother was humble, and knew that while Death could be trusted, due to the laws of Equivalent Exchange, he could not trust any gift from Death that came without a price. He asked to look beyond Death’s gate, and so see the truth within. Death allowed him this, and the third brother was given the ability to perform alchemy without a transmutation circle.”

“How?” Henry asked.

“Mate, if I knew that, I’d be the Führer,” Ron said.

“Is it possible?” Henry asked Mrs. Weasley.

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Perhaps after something that cannot be changed.”

Henry wasn’t sure she wanted to answer that question.

“But the story doesn’t end there,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Death then stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue their journey. Eventually they separated, each to his own way. The first went to a distant village, where he showed off his new abilities thanks to his Philosopher’s Stone. He showed how it can heal injuries and transmute while ignoring Equivalent Exchange. But as he slept in the inn, another alchemist crept into his room and stole the Stone, and slit the brother’s throat for good measure. Thus, Death took the first brother for his own. The second brother went home, and used the scroll to perform a human transmutation of the girl he wanted to marry. When he finished the transmutation, the result was not human, and Equivalent Exchange demanded payment, which it took in the form of his heart. And so, Death took the second brother as well. But while Death searched far and wide for the third brother, he could not be found. The third brother lived a quiet life of research and experimentation, enlightened by the truth he had seen behind Death’s gate. When he was old, and it was time for him to die, he gave his notes to his son, and greeted Death as an old friend.”

“So, what does the symbol mean?” Henry asked.

“It’s the three gifts,” she said. She took Henry’s hand and traced the symbol on his hand. “The scroll, the Stone, and the truth behind the gate.”

“Why is the truth a triangle?” he asked.

“The rumors of those who can transmute without a circle are all consistent,” Mrs. Weasley said. “They clap their hands together, creating a circle with their bodies. The triangle is the shape of the brother’s hands when he transmuted.”

Henry thought about that story for the rest of the train ride to Risembool. The Philosopher’s Stone and human transmutation, he’d heard of. But performing alchemy without a transmutation circle? What sort of discovery, or research, or experimentation would lead to that ability? He wouldn’t be surprised if the three of them were connected, the story seemed to suggest that.

At some point, Ron asked him which gift he’d pick. Henry was so distracted he barely heard the question.

“What?”

“I’d go for the Stone, if it were me,” Ron said. “Even if the only thing it did was turn lead to gold.”

Henry couldn’t be sure either way, but he was certainly interested in finding out.


	5. A Lightning Bolt Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and the Weasleys arrive in Risembool, and find a key to the past.

Henry had never seen a house quite like the Burrow. Several stories tall and just listing enough to need extra support beams, with unmistakable tract marks of alchemy on most of the boards, it looked as though new rooms were added as often as they were required, with less concern for architectural standards than for comfort. The house sat in the corner of a large field that at one point was probably used for farming, but was now filled with wild grasses save for a small kitchen garden right near the house.

“It’s not much,” Ron said, "but it's home."

“It’s wonderful,” Henry said.

“The car’s home,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Now why would your father be home now?”

The entrance of the house lead right into the kitchen. Two young men with the same blazing red hair as Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley, were sitting at the large kitchen table eagerly discussing something that they were clearly excited about, but stopped when they saw Mrs. Weasley and the kids walk in. One wore a military uniform and the other had a pony-tail.

“Mum!”

“Bill! Charlie!” Ron and Ginny ran to the table to meet their brothers. Henry hung back, trying not to be seen.

“You should have told me you were coming back today,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’d have made your father pick you up from the station. When did you get in?”

“Early this morning,” the one with the pony-tail said. “Hey, Charlie brought a box of dragon ivory.”

“They’ve been going through their second teething,” Charlie said, putting a box on the table. “Half the lab’s covered in bite marks.”

“Dragons?” Henry said, before catching himself. He stepped back, hoping they hadn’t heard him. Bill and Charlie looked over at him.

“Reptilian chimeras,” Charlie said. “They’re about the size of a large dog, and made up of crocodiles, iguanas, snakes, and what have you. But they look enough like dragons.”

“Who’s this, Mum?” Bill asked.

“His name is Henry Evans, and he’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“I thought you didn’t take on apprentices,” Charlie said.

“That’s what she told us,” Bill said.

“Hmph,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Didn’t stop the two of you from insisting when you started out.”

Ron pulled a fang a bit larger than his palm out of the box. “Wicked.”

“I want one!” Ginny said, jumping up and down to try and reach in the box herself. Charlie laughed softly and pulled one out to give to her.

Bill got up and walked over to Henry, extending a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Bill, the Gold Coin Alchemist.”

Henry shook his hand. “What’s being a State Alchemist like?”

“Depends on how you do it,” Bill said. “I’m Officer-class, so it’s mostly desks and paperwork. Research-class has all the fun.”

“Don’t underestimate the amount of paperwork it takes to do their research,” Charlie said. “One of my chimeras sneezes and I have to fill out a form in triplicate.”

“Are you an alchemist?” Bill asked. Henry nodded. “Military’s not a bad place to be for us. There’s plenty of resources that most other people can’t get to, and the training’s the best in the world.”

“Plus, you missed the war by about nine years, so—”

“Charles Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley snapped.

Henry looked away, covering his forehead.

“Ron, Ginny, you two should start unpacking,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Mum!”

“You’ll have plenty of time to catch up with your brothers, but let’s get these bags out of the kitchen,” she said. “Henry, dear, I’ll take yours up to Ron’s room, you can stay with him.”

“Here Ginny, let me help with that,” Charlie said, taking one of the bags. “Why don’t you carry the fangs back to my room?”

In short time, Henry and Bill were the only ones left in the kitchen.

“Your parents?” Bill asked.

Henry nodded.

“Do you know..?”

“Uncle Vernon said they were doctors,” he said. “Killed by an Ishvalan civilian they were treating.”

Bill sighed. “Dad was just starting out when the war began. And with as far east as we are, it spilled over into Risembool some. It actually ended not far from here, when the instigator of the whole thing died trying to kill a local family.”

“Harry Potter, right?” Henry asked. “We had to write a class report about Ishval, I got the end of it. Harry’s parents were killed by a treasonous State Alchemist. Harry survived, but disappeared.”

“I can’t imagine what growing up with that would be like,” Bill said. “He was actually here for a night—Dad went up to see what had happened and found him what was left of the house. Brought him here until someone from the military came and took him away.”

Henry nodded. “Do you think he had other family?”

Bill shrugged. “Perhaps.”

Henry thought about the other orphans he’d known in school, and how their families treated them. He hoped that wherever Harry was, he’d have been put with a better family than the Dursleys.

 

Henry helped Ron set the table for dinner as Mrs. Weasley cooked. Henry had never seen or smelled anything quite so wonderful.

“Is Dad going to be home for dinner?” Ron asked.

“Hopefully,” Mrs. Weasley said. “But he has been rather busy lately. Ron, why don’t you take Henry up the road to see if he’s coming?”

“All right.”

Ron and Henry walked up the road to a large hill. Henry looked up from the base. There was a sort-of burnt ruin at the top, overlooking the area.

“What’s up there?” he asked.

“That’s the Potters’,” Ron said. “They were killed at the end of the war. Did you ever hear about them?”

“Yeah,” Henry said. “Yeah I have.”

“You can see all the way to town from up there,” Ron said, starting up the hill. “Come on.”

Henry followed, but as Ron went to look at the town, Henry looked over at the ruins. A burnt-out house, with no roof and barely a trace that there was a second story once, stood like a memorial. It was almost perfectly preserved in its destructed state. The front door was still on its hinges. Henry gently opened it, ashes falling on his shoulders from the door frame. He stepped around the wreckage, glass crunching under his feet. He looked down. A small picture in a frame was in front of his feet. He picked it up. A man with a brown complexion and a woman with dark red hair held a small child. The woman was smiling. The man wore glasses.

“Henry.”

He looked up. A man who looked quite a bit like Bill, Ron, and Charlie stood at the door. He had the blue uniform of an Amestrian officer.

“That’s your name, right? Henry?” he asked. “I’m Lieutenant Colonial Weasley, Ron’s dad.”

“He… he looks like me,” Henry said. “The man in the photo.”

“Is that right?”

“What happened to their son?” he asked. “What happened to Harry?”

“He was taken to Central,” Lt. Col. Weasley said. “To live with relatives.”

“You found him here.”

“Yes,” he said. “And… and there’s one part the history books left out.”

“What was that?” Henry asked. “The boy,” he said. “The attack left him with an alchemical scar on his forehead. One that looked like a lightning bolt.”

Lt. Col. Weasley stepped forward. Henry pushed his hair out of the way to show a lightning bolt scar that crashed across his forehead.

“I think there’s a lot we need to talk about,” Lt. Col. Weasley said.


	6. The World Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Evans or Harry Potter?

Lt. Col. Weasley took Henry and Ron back to the Burrow. Bill and Charlie were putting the food on the table as Mrs. Weasley washed up.

“Oh, Arthur,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I see you’ve met Henry, can you call Ginny down for—”

“I need to make a call,” Arthur said.

She paused, then nodded. He walked over to the phone.

“I need to speak with the Liutenant General,” he said quietly. “No, I’m calling from home… Uncle-Sugar-Oliver-Eight-Zero-Zero… Tell him that the boy’s come back to Risembool.”

He hung up the phone.

“What was that all about?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“After dinner,” Lt. Col. Weasley said.

 

The children had gone to sleep, all but Henry. He heard hushed voices downstairs, Mrs. And Lt. Col. Weasley arguing. Every once in a while, Bill or Charlie would say something. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after what happened in the ruins of the Potter house, he knew that Lt. Col. Weasley would insist on… Well, he wasn’t certain what he would do. If he was really Harry Potter, he would have to do something. Perhaps even send him back to the Dursleys. Perhaps it was safer there. Then again, the man who tried to kill Harry was dead, right? Why protect someone from a dead man?

Downstairs, a door opened and the Weasleys stopped talking. Henry listened for more, but couldn’t hear anything. He looked over at Ron’s bed. He was asleep. Henry slowly got out of bed and quietly went to the stairs.

Ron’s bedroom was at the top of the stairs, and the stairs wrapped around in a square with a landing at every bedroom door. The center looked down into the living room. He could see Mrs, Weasley and Bill talking to someone across the room, out of Henry’s line of sight. Henry slowly went down the stairs, picking up bits of conversation.

“—living in a _cupboard_ , filled with _bugs_ —”

“Molly, I can assure you, we did not know,” a new voice said. “But he was safe there.”

“Safe from what?” Bill asked. “The war is over.”

“And when a war is ended, do we summarily execute every person on the losing side?” Lt. Col. Weasley asked. “My investigative unit is _still_ rooting out supporters of You-Know-Who, but we can’t prosecute everyone that ever took an order from a superior— _especially_ the enlisted men. So many of them just _didn’t_ _know_.”

_You-know-who_? Harry thought.

“That doesn’t excuse how they treated the boy,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I _will not_ allow you to take him back there.”

“Perhaps if we asked him,” the new voice said. “Henry, if you could come down?”

Henry froze. Did they know he was there?

“Henry,” Lt. Col. Weasley said. “It’s all right.”

Henry came all the way down the stairs, slowly, with his head down. The new voice belonged to an older man with long, white hair and a matching beard, sitting in one of the armchairs. . He stared at Henry over half-moon glasses with piercing blue eyes.

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” he said. “It’s been some time.”

“My name is Evans,” Henry said.

“Harry, this is Lt. General Albus Dumbledore,” Lt. Col. Weasley said.

“My name is Henry Evans,” he repeated.

“Evans was Lily Potter’s name before she married James,” Gen. Dumbledore said. “Lily had a sister— Petunia— who married Vernon Dursley, both of whom I entrusted with your care.”

Henry looked away. The Dursleys told him to call them Aunt and Uncle, but Henry hadn’t thought they meant that literally.

“Obviously your trust was misplaced,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Gen. Dumbledore said. “The longer one lives, the more chances they have to make mistakes. Now, Mr. Potter, you have a choice.”

“I don’t want to go back to the Dursleys,” he said. “Not ever.”

“Would it really have to come to that?” Charlie asked, leaning forward.

“Perhaps not,” Gen. Dumbledore said. He folded his hands under his chin. “What do you know about the State Alchemists, Harry?”

“They’re… alchemists who work for the military.”

Gen. Dumbledore nodded. “That’s right. You know, in a year, you’ll be old enough to take the entrance exam to our training program.”

“He’s not ready for that,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“He’s got a year,” Bill said.

“And with the way you train…” Charlie added.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips.

“What happened to th—to my parents?” Henry asked.

Lt. Col. Weasley and Gen. Dumbledore looked at each other.

“I’m afraid we can’t tell you that,” Lt. Col. Weasley said.

“Could you tell me if I were a State Alchemist?” he asked.

Gen. Dumbledore smiled and stood up. “I think you have a lot of work ahead of you, Molly.”

“I’d say,” she muttered.

 

The next morning, Henry went out into the field to think. The hills of Risembool stretched as far as he could see. He thought about how he could have grown up like this— in a rustic, idiosyncratic setting far removed from the patterned life of planned suburbs and Sunday tea. He would have been just down the road from the Weasleys, would probably have known Ron and Ginny like siblings. He might have had siblings.

He wondered if his parents had been State Alchemists. All the history books ever said was that they were associated with the military. Alchemy was a science, anyone could theoretically learn it, but there were some that had a natural talent for it. Perhaps his came from them. He liked the thought that they gave him something that he could use to help others. Maybe it would even help him.

He saw Ron and Ginny heading towards him from the house. Ginny walked a few feet away, playing with soap bubbles. Ron came up to Henry.

“Mum says you’re going to take the State Alchemist exam.”

“Yeah,” Henry said. “I mean, maybe. I don’t know. I think it’s the only way to find out what happened to my parents.”

Ron nodded. “I’ll do it with you.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I’ll do it with you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Henry said.

“Bill and Charlie did a lot of their training together,” Ron said. “Ginny and I have been working together for as long as we can remember. It’s _easier_ when you have someone to do it with.”

“I’ve got a lot of catching up, I’ll slow you down,” Henry said.

“There’s a theoretical part to the exam as well as a practical,” Ron said. “I’ve never been good with theory, you can help me with that.”

“You don’t even know me,” Henry said. “Why would you join the military for me?”

“Not _for_ you, _with_ you,” Ron said. “Henry, I’m doing this.”

He nodded. “It’s… Harry, actually. Harry Potter.”

Ginny started singing to herself while the bubbles she made floated off towards town. It was a song from the war that she had heard her mother sing sometimes.

“Home is behind,” she sang. “The world is ahead. And there are many paths to tread. Through shadow to the edge of night until the stars are all alight. Mist and shadow, cloud and shade,

All shall fade, all shall fade.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A Walking Song" by J.R.R. Tolkien, from _Fellowship of the Ring_
> 
> "The Edge of Night" composed by Billy Boyd, lyrics adapted from Tolkien, from _Return of the King_


	7. One Year Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets an old friend of his parents and heads into Central City to register for his entrance exams.

Harry ducked down into the tall grasses. He scrawled a transmutation circle into the dirt. He had just enough time to activate it. A wall of dirt sprouted up in front of him. A giant pawn statue crashed into the wall. Both constructs crumbled and fell over. Harry rolled out of the way. He landed just beside a purification circle for alkehestry. Harry scrambled to his feet. He saw Ron activate the circle’s pair a few feet away and the force blasted the ground and Harry back. Harry felt the wind get knocked out of him as he landed on his back. Ron rushed over to him.

“You okay, mate?” he asked.

Harry waved him off. “Fine. I’m fine. How long was that there?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Ron said, helping Harry up. “After you knocked me over there with that hand thing.”

“I was going for the full arm,” Harry said, cleaning off his glasses. “But I smudged one of the sigils.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t plan ahead, mate.”

“Planning ahead isn’t the problem,” Harry said. “It’s when that plan falls apart once the fighting breaks out.”

“Harry! Ron! Dinner!” Ginny called from the house. They ran back to the Burrow.

The past year with the Weasleys was the best Harry could remember. It had taken some getting used to— the artificial suburban quiet of Privet Drive was almost totally replaced by the loud happenings of the Burrow. From him, Ron, and Ginny practicing alchemy, to Charlie’s chimeras, and Fred and George’s machines, there was always something happening, always someone coming or going. Harry had met every Weasley save Percy in the time he’d lived there. Fred and George had come back from Rush Valley a few days earlier for a brief holiday, and to see Ron off before he left for his State Alchemist exams. He and Harry were going to be leaving the next morning for Central.

As Harry approached the house, he noticed a second car aside from the one that Lt. Col. Weasley used to get to and from the local military outpost. When he and Ron walked into the kitchen, there was a stranger sitting at the table. He was in his 30’s, wore a military uniform, and had a few scars across his face that made him look older than he probably was. He was talking with Lt. Col. Weasley when he saw Harry and Ron.

“Ah, these must be the young hopefuls,” the stranger said.

“Yes, yes.” Lt. Col. Weasley got up and walked over to them. “This is my youngest son Ron, and this is Harry Potter. Boys, this is Colonel Remus Lupin, the Full Moon Alchemist.”

“I’m stationed over at Eastern command, I work with your father on occasion,” Col. Lupin said. “I served with your parents as well, Harry.”

“Really?” Harry asked. There was still very little anyone would tell him about his parents.

“Some of the bravest soldiers I’d ever met,” he said. “And extremely skilled alchemists.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” Harry asked.

Col. Lupin paused. “No. I wasn’t read in on that.”

“Did you have to take the State Alchemist exams too?” Ron asked, sitting down.

“Yes, of course,” Col. Lupin said. “They’re easy enough, if you’ve had the right training.”

Harry’s stomach dropped.

“But they’re more of an aptitude test,” he continued. “To see if you have a good understanding of the basics, certainly, but also if you have the potential to be of use to the military.”

“Of use?” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Ron said. “They’re not going to let in anyone that can draw a transmutation circle.”

“But what sorts of uses?” Harry asked.

“Well, I’m sure William and Charles have explained their classes to you,” Col. Lupin said. “Research-class is primarily focused on pushing the boundaries of alchemy in their fields, and Officer-class are essentially military bureaucrats. You’ll be starting out as Apprentice-class alchemists, which is a special class for those who are training under the military but haven’t received their commissions yet. You’ll be taught by Master-class alchemists, who are mostly Generals and all at the top of their respective fields.”

“Are there any others?” Harry asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” Col. Lupin said, with a wry smile. “At least, not any that are assigned during peace time.”

“Are there different classes during war?” Harry asked.

“Harry?” Mrs. Weasley came over to the table with a large stew pot. “Go get Fred and George, I’ve called them ten times now…”

Harry got up from the table and climbed to stairs to Fred and George’s room. He heard a loud bang behind the door and Fred stumbled out, smelling like oil.

“Hey, Harry,” he said. “We’ll be down in a sec. George, we crossed the wrong wires again.”

“No, we didn’t!” George said, picking the detached automail arm off the floor. “It was a mechanical issue, not electrical. Look here—”

“She’s really serious,” Harry said. “Dinner is on the table.”

“Right, right,” Fred said. “We’re coming.”

“But it’s just—”

“We’ll look at it after dinner, George.”

And after dinner, Fred and George were off like a shot back to their room. Harry helped Mrs. Weasley clear the table. As she carried some of the plates back to the kitchen, she stumbled a bit.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.  
“It’s nothing,” she said, smiling. “My legs just don’t work like they used to.”

She gripped one of her knees and it made an almost mechanical sound.

“Let’s finish up here,” she said.

“Actually—” Col. Lupin came in from the living room. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Harry for a moment.”

Mrs. Weasley paused. “Yes, yes, of course.”

Col. Lupin took Harry outside. The sky was that blue between sunset and dark. He could just make out the destroyed Potter house on the far hill. He hadn’t been back up there since the night he learned who he was.

“You ask a lot of questions,” Col. Lupin said.

“I’m a scientist,” Harry said. “Isn’t that the point?”

“I think you’ll find that in the military there are questions that people aren’t going to like answering,” he said. “But I can help.”

“What?”

Col. Lupin smiled. “You’re not the only one who wants to know what happened to your parents. State Alchemists can, at their discretion, mentor a handful of Apprentice-class alchemists during their training. Most don’t, but the ones that do help take some of the pressure off the generals that are involved in training the apprentices.”

“The school is in Central,” Harry said. “Didn’t you say you’re stationed at the Eastern Command?”

“I had transfer orders anyways.”  
Harry nodded. “And Ron?”

“I will be mentoring a few apprentices, I can request Mr. Weasley as well.”

“I… we have to pass the exams first.”

Col. Lupin smiled. “I have no doubt you will.”

 

Harry and Ron got off the train at the Central station.

“Mum said Percy was going to—there he is!”

A redhead wearing a military uniform waved from the end of the platform. Harry and Ron grabbed their bags and pushed their way through the crowd to him.

“Hey, Percy!”

“Hello, Ron,” Percy said. “And you must be Harry Potter, Mum told me you were coming.”

Percy was built like Ron and Bill— tall and lanky. His uniform was just slightly too big, but he stood like it fit, which helped. He offered his hand to Harry, who put down his bag to shake it.

“You’re with me until they assign you a dorm after the test,” Percy said. “They give the cadets private apartments just outside Central Command—it’s mostly military housing anyways…”

Harry had never been in Central City proper. The cab ride from the station, he was transfixed by watching the factories and warehouses melt into rowhouses and apartment buildings. The roads were bigger than most rivers and filled with more cars than Harry had ever seen before in one place. As they got closer to Central Command, he could see the towering white wall that protected the military headquarters at the very heart of the city. Black banners bearing the Shield of Amestris— a scroll shield split into quarters colored red, green, yellow, and blue— hung over the wall and fluttered in the wind.

“Is the academy in there?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Percy said. “We should check you two in this afternoon—the tests start rather early.”

After they left their bags at Percy’s apartment they headed over to Central Command. Inside the high white walls were several buildings. The Apprentice-class academy and dorms were in the tallest building in the compound, in the south-east corner. A registration area was set up in the main atrium. The lines were organized by last name, and Harry got in the M-P line behind a pale, blond boy about his age. The boy looked over his shoulder at Harry.

“Who did you study with?” the boy asked.

“Excuse me?”

“If you have any hope to pass any of these tests, you must have studied with a State Alchemist,” the boy said. “My father is the Snake Scale Alchemist, and a General, so he knows all the best ones.”

Harry frowned.

“So, who did you study with?”

“A passing housewife.”

The boy was surprised enough that he didn’t notice he had become the front of the line. He turned to the clerk.

“Draco Malfoy.”

The clerk handed Draco Malfoy an envelope and checked a box on his clipboard.

“Next.”

Malfoy stepped to the side as Harry went up to the table.

“Harry Potter,” Harry said quietly.

Malfoy’s jaw dropped and the clerk looked up.

“I… I should be on the—”

“Right, right, of course,” the clerk said. He handed Harry an envelope and checked the box.

“So, it’s you, is it?” Malfoy asked.

“I don’t see any other Harry Potters running around,” Harry said. “See you at the exams.”

He walked off to rejoin Percy and Ron.

“Who was that?” Ron asked.

“Said his name was Malfoy,” Harry said.

“Ah, that must be General Lucius Malfoy’s son,” Percy said. “General Malfoy fought in the Ishval conflict. He was one of the officers that was implicated in some less than ethical dealings, but they never had enough to convict him.”

 

Percy only had a one-bedroom apartment, but he moved some furniture in the living area to let Ron and Harry sleep on the floor. The wall on the clock struck eleven, Ron was fast asleep and snoring, and the moonlight shone through the window as bright as it could. Harry reached for his bag from where he was lying and grabbed a photograph out of one of the side pockets. It was the picture he’d found in the wreckage of the Potter home— his home. His parents smiled at him, captured in a moment. So was he, because the clock struck a quarter hour before he realized how long he’d been staring. He put the picture back in his bag and tried to get some sleep.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered. “It starts tomorrow.”


	8. All is One, and One is All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry faces the entrance exams.

The first person to finish the theoretical part of the examination was a bushy haired girl whom Harry was certain the examiner referred to as a “Miss Granger”. Draco Malfoy, who was sitting near to Harry, audibly scoffed but started writing faster all the same. He and Harry finished soon after, almost at the same time. Harry had to leave after he handed in his exam, but he shot Ron a supportive look on his way out. Ron nodded and smiled, weakly.

Outside, Harry ran to catch up with the Granger girl.

“Hey, Granger!”

She turned around, blankly staring, almost annoyed.

“Ah…” He felt like the dog that finally caught the car. “How d’you think you did?”

“I’m sure I did fine,” she said curtly.

“Really? Because I couldn’t quite remember a few things—what did you say the freezing point of Oxygen was?”

“Well, the freezing point of O2 _is_ 54.36 Kelvins, so I said 54.36 Kelvins,” she said.

“…We were supposed to use Kelvin?”

She rolled her eyes, turning to leave. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Oi! Potter!”

She paused and they both looked to Malfoy, who strode over to the two of them.

“Bit of a lark, that exam, wasn’t it?” Malfoy said. “Of course, the tutors my father hired for me held me to a much higher standard than that.”

“If it was so easy, how come she finished first?” Harry gestured to Granger.

Malfoy said nothing, but his mouth became a thin line.

“I hardly think that the interview and practical portions will be any less challenging,” Granger said. “Every alchemist has their strengths and weaknesses, and alchemy cannot stand on theory alone.”

“But I’d bet they don’t want to admit anyone that they’d have to spend a lot of time teaching theory to,” Harry said.

“Rubbish, everyone has to relearn the basics at the start,” Granger said. “I’ve read every article and book on the State Alchemist training programs, they start from Equivalent Exchange and work up.”

“Please, like they’d waste their time on that,” Malfoy said. “Anyone applying who doesn’t know about Equivalent Exchange—”

“Should have just as much of a chance as any of us,” Harry said.

“It’s to standardize our practices,” Granger said. “The military has a certain way of doing things, they want us all to have a consistent education, no matter our background.”

“Right,” Harry said.

Malfoy huffed and walked away.

“And here I thought he’d never leave,” Granger said. “Sorry, Hermione Granger. Did he call you Potter?”

“Name’s Harry Potter,” he said.

Hermione blinked. “The—”

“Yeah,” he said. “Though I’ve only really been Harry for a year.”

She gave him a confused look.

“Long story,” Harry said.

A small group of students left the testing room, Ron being one of them.

“Well, that was killer,” Ron said.

“You’ll do better on the practical, I’m sure,” Harry said. “Ron, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Ron Weasley. We’ve been training together for the past year.”

“Pleasure,” Hermione said.

“What d’you think the interview will be like?” Ron asked.

“Four of the Master-Class alchemists will take us into a private room and ask us questions that decide which of them will be our primary instructor,” Hermione said. “Did either of you read the informational packets they sent us?”

Harry and Ron looked at each other. “No.”

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me,” she said. “But I have to prepare for the next portion.”

Harry and Ron stared at her as she walked away.

“Bit of a nightmare, that one, I reckon,” Ron said.

“She’s got a head for facts and data,” Harry said. “I know who I’m asking to help me study once classes start.”

 

For the interview portion, the examiner lead Harry into a dark room. Behind what looked like a judge’s bench were four figures obscured by shadow. The door shut behind him and soon the only light was on an intricate transmutation circle in the middle of the room. At the direct center, a simple wooden stool.

“Please sit,” a woman said. Her voice was older, and thin. Harry did as instructed.

“What is the purpose of alchemy?” A man’s voice this time, but high pitched and airy.

“Um,” Harry paused. “To study the natural world and bend it to human will.”

“Which is better: to protect, or to serve?” A different woman from the first, with a far warmer voice.

“Isn’t protecting someone a kind of service?” Harry asked back. “So, both. Neither. They’re equivalent.”

“Which is more desirable: knowledge or power?” Another man, his voice low and drawling.

“Knowledge is power,” Harry said. “A power without limit.”

“Why do you seek state certification?” The first woman again, judging by the thin voice.

“I…” He couldn’t tell the truth, that he was looking for what happened to his parents. That seemed almost entirely trivial at that point. There had to be more to it than that. Wasn’t there?

“To find the truth,” Harry said. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“All is one, and one is all,” the airy man said.

“What is the all?” the drawling man asked.

“What is the one?” the warm woman asked.

“Take as much time as you need,” the first woman said.

Harry was shocked enough that he took a step back. _All is one? One is all?_ It sounded like the Law of Equivalent Exchange, but on an even bigger scale. A _universal_ scale…

“The universe,” Harry said. “‘Uni-’ means ‘one’, but it contains everything we know. Everything is made of distinct elements, but all these elements were present since time began. The universe acts on the physical Laws of Conservation of Mass and Energy, which are the basis for the Law of Equivalent Exchange.”

“What is the all?” the drawling man asked again.

“The universe is the all,” Harry said. “And the one.”

“The universe is the one?” the warm woman asked.

“I am the one,” Harry said. “The same elements that make up the stars are present in the human body.”

“All is one, and one is all,” the first woman said. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know!” Harry finally admitted.

His voice rang against the walls, and then there was silence.

Harry took a deep breath. “But I’m willing to learn.”

There was a muttering behind the bench.

“Very well,” the first woman said. “You may go.”

Harry exhaled and walked out of the room.


End file.
